Ianto's Obsession
by Solsbury Girl
Summary: To Jack's dismay, Ianto seems to open up to Owen instead of him.


_This is for Jann and Gerrard. You know why!_

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**Ianto's Obsession**

Jack bounced half-way down the steps into the autopsy bay, wanting to talk to Owen about a slight tweak to the formula for Retcon, but he stopped instantly in his tracks when he saw Owen and Ianto in a deep, and clearly private, conversation. Surprisingly, they had not noticed him such was the depth of their conversation.

They were sitting near the little desk in the corner, on white plastic chairs, turned towards each other. Ianto's normally ramrod straight posture had gone, he was slumped with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. His hair was dishevelled. He had obviously run his fingers through it many times. He looked quite desolate. Owen's normally closed posture differed too. He was sitting with his legs wide open, palms upwards in a non-threatening, sympathetic way inviting the younger man to open up to him.

They were talking earnestly. Each was taking time to listen to the other. It was clear that Owen was offering advice and Ianto was trying to take it on board.

Jack crept closer, wondering what was going on; wondering why Ianto felt easier approaching Owen than he did taking comfort from Jack.

"They're gone, Owen, all gone."

"I know, mate, I know." Owen's speech rhythm echoed Ianto's. Rhythmic, familiar, calming.

"Dead. They all died. From one moment to the next. They were there and then... then....." he gulped. "I watched them die. I wasn't quick enough. If only I had been there sooner."

Jack crept even closer as he watched Owen reach up and gently draw Ianto's hands away from his face. Initially, it surprised Jack that, after all these months, Ianto had chosen to open up about Canary Wharf and the carnage that had taken place. But thinking about it, he was pleased that finally it had happened. He had long hoped that Ianto would be able to unburden himself by starting to talk about the tragedy, so that others could help him deal with the post traumatic stress from which he was so clearly suffering.

A part of Jack, which he tried to suppress, was bordering on resentful that Ianto had chosen to open up to Owen, though. But, he rationalised, Owen was the team doctor and a natural outlet. Perhaps Ianto had gone to Owen for sleeping pills and the emotions had spilled out. Whatever had prompted it, Jack sincerely hoped that it was the beginning of the end of that chapter of Ianto's young life, and would signal the start of a new, and happier, time.

Ianto's bright blue eyes looked beseechingly at Owen. "What could I have done? What more could I have done? I struggled for four days, I watched and waited. I waited. Oh, the waiting was the worst. And then, afterwards, I couldn't do anything. I felt so helpless. There was nothing more I could do." His head sank back into his hands and his shoulders slumped even further. "Just think of the cost."

Owen tenderly reached forwards and, with his index finger, gently tilted Ianto's head back up so that they were looking each other in the eyes again. "There was nothing more you could do, mate. The attack came at precisely the moment you least expected; the moment you needed to be available."

"I just can't deal with it Owen, I don't know what to do next. I need to consider the future; Torchwood interferes with everything. It screws up everything I ever try to do and achieve."

Owen regarded his younger team mate with enormous sympathy. "Ianto, you have to plant seeds for the future. Don't let today's set back ruin things for you. You can do it, you may have to start again but you can do it." Owen stood up and stepped across to Ianto and hugged him tenderly, with enormous sympathy.

At this point, Jack could restrain himself no longer. He had never seen such compassion in the doctor before. He walked down the remaining stairs, straight across to Ianto. He gathered Ianto in his arms and kissed him deeply.

Ianto came up spluttering for air, rather surprised at such a public display of affection from the Captain.

"Ianto, whatever the problem is, I will help you through it. You can trust me. I love you, don't you realise that? I love you! Please, let me in, let me help. Tell me what is wrong!"

Ianto shook his head, unable to articulate his feelings at what he had just heard.

Jack turned to Owen. "What is the matter, please, for pity's sakes, tell me what is going on?"

Owen regarded him solemnly. "It was the weevil attack, Jack."

Jack looked bemused. "Weevils? I thought we were talking about Canary Wharf."

"Oh no, there is no canary, Ianto only has ducks," said Owen, not noticing the frown that passed across Jack's face. "When the weevils attacked at lunch time, we were out for hours chasing them and doing clean-up. And Ianto had a complete plantation of artichokes due for harvesting."

Jack wondered for a moment if he had somehow switched into a virtual reality without realising it. "Ianto has a plantation of artichokes?" he echoed. "Artichokes?"

"Ruined, they were totally ruined," continued Owen sadly, still oblivious to Jack. "We took too long to do the clean-up."

Jack sat down with a thud on Owen's desk. He suspected he was starting to hyperventilate. So did the doctor, who grabbed a brown McDonald's bag out of the bin in case he needed Jack to breathe into it. He delved quickly and removed the cheese burger wrapper.

Ianto shot Owen another miserable look, and this time Owen leaned forwards and took Ianto's hands into his own. He moved closer to him, such that Ianto felt the gentle whisper of Owen's breath on his cheek.

"It's OK, mate. Really, it will be OK. But I think you are taking this rather too seriously. They were only virtual artichokes. Maybe you should quit FarmVille and start playing Mafia Wars instead."

_End_

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_(This story is for Clarky too, even though it lacks the goat interest.)_


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